Larkspur Road Page 18

  She could barely breathe as he nuzzled her, flicked his tongue over her, caressing and teasing as if they had all the time in the world….

  “Tra…”

  She forgot his name. She forgot her name. She forgot everything but the feel of him stroking her with his tongue, with his fingers.

  He took his time with her, making her writhe, making her moan as a keening pleasure roared inside her until slowly, ruthlessly, he sent her flying over the edge, dizzy and crazy and soaring through space.

  She was still gasping when he surged up over her, dark, rugged, handsomer than the devil himself. His eyes burned into hers as she clutched those broad shoulders.

  “I…want you…need you…inside me, Travis. All of you, n-now,” she gasped, her fingers sliding down those muscled arms, her body straining, aching for more of him. For all of him.

  “Ah, Mia, baby.” He reached toward his discarded jeans and yanked out a condom, his eyes burning with equal parts lust and laughter. “I can handle that.”

  “I just bet you can,” she gasped raggedly as she wrapped her legs around him, pressed kisses across his broad chest and neck, and opened herself to him, heart, body, and soul.

  Travis filled her, his blood roaring in his head, in every part of his body. As her hips began to thrash, he drove steadily, deeper, and harder as they fused together. He breathed her in, watched her damp, flushed face, felt his body ignite at the glazed need in her beautiful eyes. He saw something else, something wild and soft and giving. Her gaze was locked on his, the center of her amber eyes darkening as she cried out and clutched him, nails scraping down his back. Mia. He lost himself in her, in her deep hot sweetness. Lost himself again and again and again.

  The rest of the world disappeared. In a nearly empty bedroom in a cabin in the woods, filled with two people, a sleeping bag, and the glimmer of the moon, he made love to the woman of his dreams.

  And after he finally sank down on the sleeping bag beside her and cradled her in his arms, he stroked her hair and made her laugh with the only words either of them spoke for a long time.

  “Now, that gives a whole new meaning to the expression ‘coming home.’”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Larkspur Road was dark and silent by the time they returned. It was almost ten o’clock and no lights shone from Mia’s house when Travis turned the Explorer into her driveway. He immediately glanced over at Ellis Stone’s home where light still glowed in two of the windows. The boys must still be watching Indiana Jones or playing video games, and Ellis was probably awake, too, waiting for them to go to sleep.

  “That’s strange. Something’s wrong,” Mia said beside him, even as he scanned the other houses on her side of the street. He saw several lights gleaming from windows along the block. “I’m sure I left a light on in the hallway and the kitchen.”

  “You did. I’m thinking it might be a power outage. Only it looks like it’s just your house.”

  “Samson! He’s all alone in the dark.” Unsnapping her seat belt, she sprang out of the Explorer. Travis was already slamming the driver’s-side door and heading toward the porch, two long strides ahead of her.

  “Why don’t you give me your key and wait in the car? Let me check this out first,” he said, easing open the screen door.

  “No way. I’m going in with you.”

  “Mia.”

  “Here, open the door.” She handed him the key and waited, her face tense, determined. “Hurry, Travis—Samson…”

  He sighed at the set expression in her eyes. And at the worry he saw there. “Stay close, then—right behind me.”

  Even as he fitted the key in the lock, they could hear Samson barking—sharp, frantic yips from somewhere in the house, and he saw Mia stiffen.

  The dog definitely wasn’t in the hall or the living room. The barking sounded distant and muffled and much more high-pitched than usual. Agitated.

  “Travis, hurry, something’s definitely wrong,” she whispered as he pushed open the door to pitch-blackness.

  “Stay right behind me,” he repeated, scanning the darkness ahead of them.

  She watched him move toward the light switch in the hall, a big shadow moving with purpose. His entire body seemed to emanate a kind of dangerous power and subtle authority. As he flipped the switch the entry flooded with light.

  They both blinked, swiftly scanning the living room, dining room, and what they could see of the kitchen and hallway. Nothing amiss. The only sounds were those harsh, desperate, near-hysterical barks.

  “I have to find Samson!” she muttered, but as she started forward, Travis stopped her, his hand closing over her wrist.

  “He’ll be okay for another minute or two,” he said in a low tone. “Follow right behind me now while I check the place out.”

  As he edged forward, the dog’s high-pitched barks intensified to fever pitch.

  This was nothing like Samson’s normal welcome-home bark—there was panic and alarm in the frenzied yaps. Mia fought back the urge to call out to him or to race ahead and find him. Her throat was so tight she could barely swallow as she forced herself to wait, shadowing Travis from the living room to Gram’s sewing studio and then the dining room. Suddenly, in the kitchen, he stopped so abruptly she bumped into him.

  She gasped when she realized what had caught his attention.

  The back door was wide open. Someone had smashed the window set into it and had no doubt reached in to open the lock. Shards of glass littered the floor she’d left spotless only a few hours ago.

  “Travis…”

  He spun toward her, gripped her arm, and spoke in that same low, calm tone she had to strain to hear. “Hang on. Don’t touch anything—the sheriff will have to dust for prints. We need to check the rest of the house, make sure no one’s still here. Stay close, okay? You all right?”

  “I will be once I see Samson and we catch whoever broke in here,” she whispered furiously.

  Travis nodded. “And we will. Come on.”

  Grateful for the calm in his voice and for the cool determination she saw in his eyes, she followed him back down the hallway to her bedroom and adjoining bath.

  There was no sign of anything being disturbed either there or in the smaller bedroom in the back of the house she used as an office during the school year. As they hurried toward the guest room—Brittany’s room—the sound of Samson’s frantic barking grew closer. Louder.

  At the last second Mia couldn’t stand it anymore and bolted past Travis through the doorway, unable to wait another minute as she heard the dog going crazy on the other side of the closet door.

  “It’s all right, Samson, I’m here,” she cried, yanking the closet door open even as Travis barreled forward, cursing under his breath, and bracing himself for whatever—or whoever—else might be on the other side of that door.

  But only the dog sprang from the small, dark prison, jumping wildly toward Mia. With a cry, she swept him up into her arms.

  “You’re all right!” Her knees almost sagged with relief. Samson didn’t seem hurt in any way and he wasn’t whimpering. But he was plenty upset. His eyes shone wild and frantic in the gloom. He was shaking all over, squirming in her arms, licking her hands, her face.

  Travis flicked on the bedside lamp, then sucked in his breath. Behind him, he heard Mia’s gasp.

  “No. Oh, God.” Shock knifed through her. She stared at Britt’s bed.

  The covers were neat, the pillows straight, the comforter only slightly wrinkled. But in the center of the bed sat a cluster of flowers.

  Not just any flowers.

  Wildflowers. Dead wildflowers. Tied together with string. Blood stained their wilted petals and stems, soaking into the pink-and-yellow-flowered comforter, staining it a sickening shiny red.

  “Oh, my God,” Mia gasped. Trembling, she met Travis’s grim eyes.

  Blood. Whose blood is this?

  Fear jammed her throat, nearly choking her.

  “Travis…it’s him, isn’t it? Th
at boy I saw outside Ponderosa Earl’s. It has to be. He locked up Samson and left dead flowers in my house. On Britt’s bed!”

  Travis’s mouth was taut. “We’ll find out soon enough. It’s time to bring in Hodge.” He yanked out his cell. “We need to—”

  Before he could finish the sentence, they heard a voice in the hall.

  “Aunt Mia?”

  Brittany.

  “We’re in here,” Mia called shakily and set Samson down. Immediately he raced out into the hallway to greet her. Mia wondered frantically if she should head her niece off—keep her out of here, not let her see the chilling sight of the flowers and the blood.

  “She needs to see this.” Travis read her thoughts as the sound of Britt’s quick footsteps drew nearer.

  “Hey, Samsie pie, cutie, what’s up—”

  She broke off as she reached the doorway. Stared from Mia’s white face to Travis’s frowning one in surprise.

  “What’s going on…?” Britt began but her voice trailed off as she spotted the dead flowers on the bed. The blood.

  Every drop of color drained from her cheeks.

  “Oh, God.” Her voice cracked. “He broke in…here?” Tears welled, filling her eyes.

  “You know who did this.” The way Travis said it, it was more of a statement than a question. “Tell us, Brittany.”

  Mia marveled at how cool he sounded. How in control. He put a light hand on her niece’s shoulder. “Was it that boy in the bakery today? The one who made you drop the pie?”

  Tears began to stream down her cheeks. She didn’t seem to hear Travis’s questions. She was staring at Mia, shaking her head back and forth, her mouth trembling. “I’m sorry, Aunt Mia. I’m so s-sorry!”

  “Don’t be.” Mia reached her in three quick strides and threw her arms around the girl. “Just tell us the truth, Britt.” She held her for a moment, trying to absorb her trembling sobs, wishing she could take all the fear and pain vibrating off Brittany away. “Everything’s going to be all right,” Mia told her firmly. “You just have to tell us the truth.”

  Britt pressed the heels of her hands to her wet eyes. “I…kn-know. I w-wanted to tell you! I did! But I didn’t want to upset you. Or my mom and dad. I…I thought I could handle it.”

  Mia glanced at Travis. Despite the gravity of his expression, he nodded, encouraging her to take the lead.

  Gently, she squeezed Britt’s shoulders. “Once you tell us, this can all be over. We’ll take care of it, honey. I promise.”

  “You don’t understand—it’s not that simple!” Britt’s voice rose. Breaking free, she paced to the window and back, her face pale. “You don’t kn-know what he’s like. He’ll never give up. And I don’t know where he is or where he’ll show up without warning. But I never thought he’d break in here, Aunt Mia, I swear!”

  “His name, Brittany,” Travis said quietly. “Just tell us his name.”

  Something in his deep, steady tone got through to her. Britt’s eyes flew to his face.

  “It’s Wade. Wade Collins.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “He’s my ex-boyfriend and he won’t leave me alone. He’ll never leave me alone. I’m scared, Aunt Mia, I’m really scared! If I don’t go back to him…he says I’ll be sorry!”

  And with a burst of sobs, she threw herself into Mia’s arms.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was midnight by the time Sheriff Teddy Hodge left Mia’s house.

  He’d questioned Brittany for over an hour and taken photos of the dead wildflowers on the bed. He’d made a detailed report, then put out an APB on Wade Collins. He’d dusted for fingerprints and collected the flowers and blood as evidence to be tested and preserved in the event of a trial.

  “A stalker, huh?” Sternness and sympathy mingled in the stare he directed at Brittany as they sat in Mia’s living room discussing home invasion, spray-paint vandalism of vehicles, and threats. “This ever happens again, young lady, you’d best tell your parents and the authorities pronto. It’s nothing to fool around with.”

  “Yes, sir,” she’d mumbled meekly, her hand squeezing Mia’s tight.

  In the course of the questioning, she’d shown the sheriff the photo of her on the porch, the one Wade had sent to her phone, and she’d haltingly revealed that the moment she saw spray paint all over Seth’s truck at Jackie’s party she’d been certain Wade was behind it. The last time she’d seen him Wade Collins had told her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want her dating anyone else. Only him.

  “I guess I need to tell Seth the truth, too. Before Sheriff Hodge pays his parents a visit,” she whispered to Mia in a small voice as Travis walked Hodge to the door.

  “Seth still doesn’t know? You haven’t told him anything about Wade?”

  “I wanted to forget about Wade—as much as I could! I didn’t want Seth to have to be involved—or you either. But once Wade spray-painted his truck…” She swallowed. “I knew I should have told him right away. But he’d have told his parents and they’d have called you….” Her voice trailed off helplessly. “I was embarrassed that I picked such a crazy boyfriend. I didn’t want Mom or Dad to know, and to be disappointed in me—”

  “Britt.” Mia squeezed her niece’s hand. “Parents are here to protect their kids. So are friends—and aunts. We can’t help if we don’t know. Your mom and dad would have helped you with this if you’d told them the truth instead of running away.”

  “I know.” Britt’s lower lip trembled. “But Mom was planning her honeymoon. And she was so happy. It was stupid, I know,” she rushed on. “I realize that now. I don’t blame you for being mad at me. He could’ve hurt Samson. I’d never forgive myself—” She broke off, staring in dismay at the dog, curled in a fluffy ball on Mia’s lap on the sofa. He’d received treats to help him forget his ordeal and now his eyes were drifting closed—no doubt from exhaustion after an evening of being locked up by an intruder and barking until he was nearly hoarse. “I’m so thankful he’s okay,” Britt said in a choked voice.

  You’re not the only one, Mia thought. It chilled her to think that while she and Travis were drinking wine, talking about the past, and making love, Wade Collins could have killed her dog, burned down her home…

  She pushed the awful thoughts away and focused on Brittany.

  “We need to get something straight, Britt. Right now. I’m not mad at you—what Wade’s doing isn’t your fault. None of it. But what you did, keeping this to yourself, that was wrong. Secrecy doesn’t help solve problems. Telling me and Travis—and Sheriff Hodge—that will help. In the morning, we’ll call your dad….” She trailed off, remembering in dismay that Steve had left for China today. She bit her lip. “You need to email both your mom and your dad, let them know what’s going on.”

  “There’s something else you should know.” Britt swallowed. “Wade…he said he might hurt Tate. That’s why I didn’t want to stay with Dad and Gwen while Mom was on her honeymoon.”

  The words came out in a tumble as Mia listened in horror. Tate? Britt’s father’s toddler son with his new wife?

  “I had to lead him away from Tate,” Britt hurried on miserably. “I thought if I left town and he couldn’t find me, he’d be so busy searching for me that he’d leave Tate alone and spend all his time trying to find out where I’d gone. But I…I never meant to lead him to you, Aunt Mia. I swear. I didn’t think he’d find me here in Lonesome Way. Laura promised she wouldn’t tell him or anyone else where I went.”

  So how did Wade find her? Mia wondered. Not that it mattered at this point. He’d tracked her down and now it was his turn to be tracked. Pursued. Mia’s responsibility now was to protect Brittany as long as she was here in Lonesome Way—and to call Steve’s new wife and alert her to the threat against Tate.

  She glanced up as Travis returned from seeing the sheriff out.

  “I’ll replace that door and lock for you tomorrow,” he said without preamble. “And I’ll be installing a state-of-the-art security system by tomorrow night.�
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  “You don’t have to do that,” Mia told him quickly. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will be, too, once I get done with this place.” Travis’s mouth was a set line. “Until Collins is in custody, you’re getting the Tanner Security Specialists top-of-the-line protection package. And you…” Those dusk blue eyes settled on Britt’s drawn face. “You don’t walk anywhere alone until this is finished. You understand? When you drive to work, keep your car windows up and the doors locked. If this jerk darts into the middle of the road, go around him or through him, but you don’t stop for him, not under any circumstances. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  She drew a deep breath. And actually managed a watery smile for Travis. His words, his take-charge calm seemed to be reassuring her, Mia realized.

  And they’re keeping me from jumping out of my skin.

  It was hard to believe that less than three hours ago they’d been making hot, crazed love on a sleeping bag. And then had taken a long shower together in that huge glass-enclosed shower stall…

  His gaze shifted to her at that exact moment and a slow smile touched his lips—even reached his eyes—almost as if he’d read her mind.

  It was amazing how her heart lifted. In that instant, she almost forgot about Wade Collins. About the blood on the old comforter, the dead flowers, and her broken kitchen window.

  She was beginning to feel like Travis was really back in her life. But for how long? Her heart clenched. She didn’t know. But for now…

  For now, she told herself, it’s enough. It has to be. Live for today, isn’t that what everyone always says people should do?

  “Aunt Mia, I…don’t think I can sleep in that room tonight…on that bed.” Britt’s voice was a whisper.

  “You don’t have to. For tonight, you’ll sleep in my room with me.” Very gently, Mia set Samson on the floor and straightened. She shot Travis a fleeting smile. It was beginning to feel like everything that had happened in the cabin had occurred days ago, not a mere few hours. Yet she could still feel the heat of his powerful body against hers, could still taste the tenderness of his kisses.